And then there was one

Sutton went down hard, spending from 2am until now between the couch and the bathroom. Poor thing. That's number seven out of our family of eight.

Everyone but me.

I feel like I'm in one of those horror movies (cue the scary music now) where my fellow captives have all been taken by the greasy-haired sweaty guy who breathes hard but doesn't speak, and I'm all alone waiting, waiting for him to walk into the dungeon-like room where I'm being held and drag me off to meet the same abhorrent fate as the others.

Dramatic, I know, but you'd have to meet my mother to understand.

Anyway, I'm here with all the sickies while Jimmy's off in some beautiful location hobnobbing frolicking working.

I'm praying and gently reminding God that I'm the only available driver now so I must stay healthy. He obviously knows all of this, but I feel the need to mention to Him the mountains of homework that need to be done by my children who were sick and must be completed tonight, as well as preparation for a number of tests and a first-grade book report. I'm the go-to guy today so I need to be at 100% (or at least my usual 70-80%) so everything/everyone gets cared for.

I can do little for Sutton who must go to school today. Because of absences due to volleyball tournaments and official college visits, she cannot miss another day without losing credit. She's taking her barf bag with her and must make it four hours.

I'm going about my day as usual. Scary, sweaty, hard-breathing quiet guy (cue more spooky music) hasn't come down to get me yet, but if he does, I plan to fight him off and rescue valiantly, and with perfect hair and make-up, my fellow captives.

My drama-mama will be so proud.